by Jon Fore
After long moments with no reaction from the dead surroundings, Gabriel turned back to the sporting goods store. He stepped through the hole he made instead of trying to get the door unlocked. Moving the blinds aside was louder than he wanted, and he rushed through, easing the blinds back down against the door. He paused here and listened for anything, but heard nothing. It was getting dark faster than he imagined, and he wanted to be out of the town before full darkness.
When he turned back to the smashed display cases, he found a small pile of handguns on the floor by the shelving. Each was a respectable weapon, but nothing along the lines of military grade. Although in the stack was a 1911. What he was looking for was something larger, like a Desert Eagle or a 10 MM semi-automatic handgun. Something with some real stopping power. Not that his revolvers lacked stopping power, but they were designed to bring down a human target. These things were definitely not human.
Behind the remains of the display cases was a shelving unit with boxes of ammunition, but centered in that was a black curtain. A tear ran the length vertically, which played in the distant breeze, randomly revealing a clamping anvil. Gabriel knew that beyond that curtain had to be a workshop. It was where whoever owned this store performed maintenance and repairs for the lazy or ignorant. Also back there, if there was one, would be the store owner's private stash. Where he kept those things possibly outside the boundaries of current gun laws.
Stepping gently over the wood and shattered glass, Gabriel stepped through the curtain and into a small room. He caught a glimpse of three gun safes along the back wall, a rifle or shotgun on a work bench, more boxed ammunition, and tools splayed about. Then the room fell into darkness as the curtain closed. The space, he found, was windowless.
Gabriel reached behind himself and tore the curtain free. It came down with a sheering sound and the rattle of a falling curtain rod, but now the room held less shadow.
On the bench was a shotgun, a real beauty. It was one of those bird hunting or pigeon shooting double barrel jobs with a fine wood stock. Around this were various tools used to maintain and oil a rifle, a rifle with such a large bore. Across the back was what he was really looking for. One of the safes was opened, and standing in silent neat rows were AR-15 style rifles. Gabriel was sure they were altered for civilian use, but they were still powerful weapons. Not the handguns he hopped for, but it was a strong indication the good stuff was back here. 'Now, if the safes are all unlocked....'
Gabriel worked his way around the work bench, an effort considering the small space, and approached the first safe. Sure enough, it was just three AR-15s and six preloaded clips, two set next to the barrel of each rifle. The owner must have been a survivalist nut and was prepared for the end of the world. Or at least he thought he was.
Gabriel tried the safe to his left, and it opened easily enough. In here were more examples of fine shotguns, ornate wooden stocks and gold trimmed brushing. More pretty than utility, and of no use to him.
He stepped past the AR-15s and tried the last safe. This one opened as well, and inside he found the corpse of what he assumed was the gun store owner. Smashed into the back was a small man with light colored hair and flannel, his face pruned in decomposition. Blood, or what Gabriel thought was blood, was pooled at the bottom of the safe and smeared around the walls. 'He was alive when he climbed in here.' The man's eyes were black, orbs of dry deflating flesh, and his mouth was forced open by a bloated tongue. Gabriel was surprised he didn't jump at the scene, but it began to feel like the jerky was looking for a way out. Clutched in the man's hand was what Gabriel could only call a hand held cannon.
The barrel of the weapon was huge. Gabriel was sure he could fit his thumb into the opening. What make the gun might be, he didn't know. Only that it was big, the very thing he was looking for. But there was no way he was going to take the thing from the corpse's grip. That, and he didn't like carrying a weapon he didn't know, know in an intimate way. "Sorry, friend.” He heard himself say as he closed the safe again. He didn't spin the tumblers to lock it, but returned the heavy metal door to its closed position. Someone would find him and get him in the ground.
After returning to the street, Gabriel crept along even though the horses’ foot falls were clear in the deepening darkness. It was a number of stores later until he finally came to the remains of a small grocery. A corner store, a place to grab beer and a pack of smokes, but there might be food in there somewhere. The two front display windows were smashed, one more so than the other, and the painted name on the window was impossible to make out. It didn't matter, though. Inside he could see the packages of high calorie snacks wrapped in shiny cellophane scattered with manufactured sticks of beef and cans of whatever.
The door for this shop was not only open, but propped open with a jagged hunk of cement debris. Leaving the horses where they were, untethered as before, Gabriel stepped into the store and worked his way around the pile of smashed and overturned shelving.
Near the entrance was the cashier's stand, torn and smashed by some large clawed thing. Cigarettes were scattered everywhere, in singles and packs and even cartons. Lottery tickets, perfume, chewing tobacco and small bottles of liquor were splayed about, either broken or whole. Whatever had stormed this town had come fast and in numbers. It was the only way so much could have been done, but then again, the bodies were not as numerous as Gabriel would have thought.
The back wall was a wooden door and a row of refrigerators stocked with small bottles of soda and water and coffee drinks and beer, even a few bottles of wine. This was now scattered in the isle before the shattered glass doors, the majority lost to the inside of the refrigerator. The smell of spoiled food stuff was nauseating, and Gabriel had to swallow hard to put the jerky back in its place. He had to find those things still sealed, the cans and the air tight cellophane.
At the end of the first aisle, or what was left of the aisle, he found a pile of wrapped cakes and cookies, doughnuts and chocolate covered moon pies. Most of these were smashed open. Not opened as if something was going to eat it, more like someone or something had stepped on them while destroying the store. Still he took a few moments to fish through the pastry and found eight that were not destroyed. At least when he squeezed them gently, air did not escape their wrappers. These he carried to the horses and stowed in a saddle bag before continuing his scavenging.
Moving around the shelves in the opposite direction revealed bags of Purina Dog Chow. Three of these were still sealed, and he brought these out and filled a bowl for Fug, stowing the rest on Big Guy. The horse nuzzled at him as if to say, 'Come on, let's get out of here, okay?' Gabriel stroked his snout once and then returned to the store.
Crawling over the center of the pile was almost fruitless until he found coffee, still in their plastic jugs. Not much larger than a can of soup, their size and resilient plastic containers had spared many of them, and he took three for his pack. Among the coffee was also canned vegetables, at least peas, corn, and beans. He took an armload of these back to Big Guy, and stowed them with the coffee.
Then Gabriel returned and collected as many of the beef sticks as he could find. He preferred his own jerky, but the greasy red sticks would be better than nothing. So far, the only wildlife he had seen was a single lonesome squirrel not fit to eat. Well, the squirrel and two horses and his Fugster. Considering the way the beef jerky was packaged, most had been spared the devastation and Gabriel was able to collect a large bouquet of the foot long tubes. After a moment's consideration, he also grabbed a carton of Marlboro Lights. Today, health concerns were pretty much useless, and the Surgeon General could go fuck him or herself.
He grabbed a handful of disposable lighters and tucked these away in Lances packs. He looked to the sky, but it was still difficult for him to judge when full night was going to end. He looked at his watch and it was blank. He tapped it a couple of times, shook his wrist, and could not believe it didn't work. It had seen him through two years in two battle zones and two y
ears in hermit seclusion. Now it decided to up and die?
He sighed and looked up, hoping for a place to spend the night, and across the street in a large smashed window of some gym stood a little girl, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open as if in shock. Gabriel ripped a revolver free and beaded up on the girl, but something stopped his finger. Some movement, as if the girl flinched, but almost imperceptibly.
The image of the last little girl froze solid in his mind, and the other voice began to rage, scream for him to shoot, to get the hell out of there. His heart immediately leapt off at a dead run, and his breath came short. He knew one of those things had to be in there, one of those lantern fish monster fuckers using the girl to draw him in, but it felt wrong. Very wrong.
The girl's face seemed to quiver lightly and Gabriel was sure he could hear the girl panting, then a tear escaped her eye and rushed down her face. A real, honest to God, tear.
She's alive! He shouted in his head, and his heart raced even faster. This time, it was because he almost shot the girl. Gabriel lowered the revolver, "Hey," he called to the girl. "Are you okay?"
The girl took a single step back from the window and her body seemed to seize again. She was nearly hidden in the crisscross pattern of shadows made by the tossed exercise equipment.
Even from his position some fifteen yards away, Gabriel could feel the girl’s unadulterated terror. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you.” Gabriel promised and dropped Lance’s reins and took a tentative step forward. "Are you alone here?"
This time the girl nodded. It was small and frightened, but still a nod.
"Where's you mommy?” He asked before he thought better of it.
The girl shook her head, greasy hair swayed back and forth, and took another step back.
"Wait, okay, listen. I have some food, I have some water, there's water right here in the store. Are you hungry?" Gabriel felt silly talking to a child like this, as if coaxing a puppy to come and not crap in the house. He also felt excited, energized, and a deep sadness for the kid. She wasn't some lost child in a mall, she was a lost child in a world. These emotions twisted tight, making him feel hot and cold at the same time.
The girl nodded, just a little, but more than last time.
"Well, come on out here. I have moon pies. Do you like moon pies?"
The girl just stared at him from beneath a greasy mat of long dark hair.
"I have horses too. Do you like horses?"
Fug suddenly appeared at the frame of the window, sniffing at what remained of the wood and glass, his tail wagging in a slow way. The dog knew there was something else here and he wanted to find it.
"Don't worry. He won’t hurt you."
The girl's eyes caught site of the ugly dog and she took another step back, turning as if about to run. Now she was almost entirely lost to the shadows in the building.
"Wait! Don't go. How long have you been out here alone? Fug, come here boy."
The girl shrugged her shoulders as Fug finally caught sight of her and began working his tail in his happy-as-hell whirling pattern.
"Here, Fug. Now.” Gabriel wanted to shout, but he also knew if he did, the girl would fly off like a shot.
Fuggly stood on his hind legs and put his front paws on the ruin of the window sill, his tail still swaying energetically.
The girl turned suddenly and fled, evaporating into the shadowed darkness.
"Wait!” Gabriel shouted and started after her. She was nearly starved, or so it seemed, so couldn't run far.
Gabriel leapt into the exercise studio with one fluid gesture, skidded on broken glass and almost went down. Then he was blinded by the darkness. He stopped short and tried to work the Surefire out of his front pocket and cursed under his breath when the thing seemed to catch over and over before finally coming free. He flicked it on and aimed it where the girl fled and found a doorway, its door literally torn from its hinges. He didn't take time to study this and ran through to the other side.
Here he found a passage to the right with a number of doors. Ceiling tiles were broken and scattered with some of the lighting fixtures and associated wiring hanging limply. The wall on the left was tattooed with what Gabriel was certain was a claw mark running almost the entire length of the passage. At the end, a door closed, this one a reinforced metal door with a horizontal push bar. Gabriel began running again, avoiding the debris and wires choking the passage.
He hit the door bodily and found himself outside again. He was in a small alley between opposing shops with only one exit through the destruction. There he saw a flutter of hair vanish around to the left. "Wait!” He shouted and ran after her. His leg, the wound stitched so recently began to burn, then itch, then hurt outright as he leapt over a length of wood, aluminum siding still attached like some rippled flag.
Fug barked twice as Gabriel reached the street, and he found the girl pinned against the wall of shop. The dog was before her, his shoulders down, his butt high and waving his let's-play flag excitedly. The girl was crying at this point, one hand held before her face, palm out. The other hand was pressed against the side of the building, her legs bent as if about to collapse.
"Don't be scared," Gabriel said, his patience wearing somewhat thin at this point. He strode up to the girl, but knelt next to Fug and rubbed his chest heartily. "See? He won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt you. But you can't be out here by yourself."
"Everybody's dead!” The girl almost screamed in a voice as smooth as honey, and began to cry.
Gabriel stepped to her, but she collapsed onto her butt and hid her head between her knees. He looked at her a moment, then sat in front of her. He reached out and placed a hand on the girls shoulder and she looked at him once, then bounced into his arms, sobbing, as only a lost child could.
Chapter 14
Gabriel was not a brother, not a father, and had never worked with children before. This girl, crying in his lap and on his shoulder made him uncomfortable. He had no clue exactly what to do. However, the physical contact, the touch of another person was so relieving, the twist of the emotions seemed almost sickening. Relief, loneliness, loss, responsibility, conversation; the promise of human companionship brought him to the edge of tears himself.
They sat there, embraced as they were, sharing emotions and bonding wordlessly. The girl smelled of sweat and fear and garbage and urine, among other things, and Gabriel didn't care. She felt gritty with dirt or pulverized cement or drywall dust, and Gabriel didn't care. The girl felt dangerously thin, warm, and bobbed in his lap with her sobbing. It was a real live person. He was not the only one. He knew this, but now he held the evidence of it.
Fug drifted over silently, and whimpered once before licking the girl’s cheek. Her eyes popped open with a gentle brown color and she smiled at the dog in a weak way. Fug brushed the ground with his tail and whimpered again.
"What's your name?” Gabriel asked, unsure where to start, unsure really how to even talk to a child, more or less a girl child. He had at least been a boy once, but to the best of his memory, never a little girl.
"Am... Am..." the girl sniffed hard and swallowed what had to be a bucket worth of snot, "Amelia. Amelia Waltz. I live at 434 Budding Tree Road and my phone number is 555-1803."
"Hi, Amelia. I'm Gabriel."
"Gabriel? Like the angel?” She sniffed hard and swallowed again.
"I guess so, yeah, but I'm not an angel."
"We need to hide, Gabriel," Amelia said with a voice much too serious for a girl her age. "They are going to come soon. We don't want to be outside when they come."
"Who? Who is coming?"
"The balloon monster. He comes at night. It's almost night, and we need to hide."
"Where?" Gabriel looked around the street again but couldn't see much from his sitting position.
"There is a place. It's over there.” She pointed through one of the nearly destroyed buildings. "I stay there at night. Come on." Amelia climbed from his lap quickly and with no concern for the testi
cles she didn't have.
Gabriel let out a grunt, "Wait for me. I have to get the horses."
"Hurry, Gabriel. We got to go fast."
Amelia's voice rose in pitch along with her urgency. She grabbed a small fist full of his sleeve, pulling him toward the hiding place.
Fug went around behind the girl, trying to get a good smell.
Lance whinnied nervously, which made Big Guy sidestep once and snort.
Gabriel got the distinct and quite sudden smell of sour potato. He leapt to his feet, ignoring the nauseating, clenching sensation in his gut. He started toward Lance and after a few steps was able to stand upright. She had given him a good shot to the parental purse, but not too bad.
"Come on!"
Gabriel grabbed Lance’s reins and turned toward the girl’s voice. She was about half a block away, pleading with him to follow with her hands. Lance came easily, followed by Big Guy. Fug was waiting for them with the girl, his ears drooped heavily, his tail tucked beneath him.
Somehow, Fug's expression of fear bothered Lance more than anything, and he leaned into the reins , pulling Lance into a quicker step. Amelia rounded the corner of the block just as Gabriel and the horses caught up with her.
"They can't see us! They can’t see us!” She almost sobbed at him, moving faster than the horses would allow. Gabriel drew them along, trying to keep the girl in sight. Fug seemed to span the two, half way between Gabriel and Amelia, and Gabriel hoped the dog would keep the visual link if he lost sight of the girl. The horses were growing more nervous with each step, although they did not fight the reins.
The street Amelia led them down was much like the Main Street, but this time there were dead and barren trees lining one side instead of destroyed buildings. But at the end was a large structure, barn shaped and partially destroyed by fire. Amelia was heading straight for it and the crack of blackness near the large sliding door. Lance pulled the reins once, then began to move faster, his feet clopping and clumping. Gabriel looked back to make sure Big Guy was still with him, and saw the old horse with its neck stretched long.